Sunday Bloody Sunday
by YankeeFan87
Summary: Psych is called in to work a case with the SBPD, but Shawn's sick and getting worse...mostly shameless Shawn whump, hurt/comfort, and Shules.  Title from U2 song of the same name...I don't own psych or any of the characters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Another Shawn whumping story...hope you enjoy!

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><p>Shawn groaned, trying to ignore the persistent ringing of his cell phone. <em>It's <em>_far __too __early __for __this_, he thought, rolling over to look at his alarm clock – 6 AM. _Way __too __early__._He groaned again as he reached for his phone, feeling a dull ache in his gut. The pain had started the previous night and had caused him to turn in early. Unfortunately for Shawn, it had also prevented him from getting more than a few hours of sleep.

"Hello?" he mumbled, wondering who in the hell was calling him at 6 AM on a Sunday morning.

"Shawn?" Juliet's voice answered back. "Did I wake you?"

"Jules!" Shawn exclaimed, trying to shake himself awake. "Of course not," he lied. "What's up?" he sat up gingerly, trying to ignore the nausea that resulted from his change in position.

"We have a dead body and what appears to be a murder," she explained, "the chief wanted me to call you and Gus in."

Shawn scrubbed a hand through his hair. Of all the times to be put on a case, why did it have to be the one day when he felt like complete and utter crap? Nevertheless, he heard himself asking Juliet for the details, promising her that he and Gus would be there in no time. Reluctantly, he climbed out of bed to take a shower, knowing it was going to be a long day.

Gus was surprised to see that Shawn was already at the psych office by the time he arrived, his bike parked haphazardly outside. "Shawn!" he shouted, walking into the office with two steaming cups of coffee. "You need to move your..." he trailed off, seeing his best friend curled up in a fetal position on the couch, his back to the door. "Shawn?"

Shawn just groaned in reply, and Gus put the coffees on his desk before going to see what was wrong with his friend. "Shawn," he repeated, putting a hand on Shawn's shoulder. He could feel the heat radiating off of him and his concern increased. Shawn rolled towards Gus, squinting up at him.

"Ugh," he mumbled, running a hand down his face and struggling to sit up.

"You sick?" Gus asked, eyeing him warily.

"I'm fine."

"Uh huh," Gus said, clearly not convinced. He picked up his cell phone, ready to call Juliet to let her know that they wouldn't be able to make it to the crime scene, but Shawn stopped him.

"Gus, seriously," Shawn said, nearly pleading now. "I'm fine. We haven't been called in on a case in ages and we really need the money."

Gus didn't put the phone down, though he did stop dialing. "You look awful, Shawn. How do you expect to solve a case when you're ill?"

"I solved a case when I was shot and kidnapped," Shawn said tiredly. "This is nothing compared to that."

"Does Juliet know your sick?"

Shawn shook his head miserably. "She worked late last night and crashed at her place. Besides, I'm _not _sick_._" He put his head in his hands, pressing his fingers into his skull to try to make the splitting headache go away.

Gus watched him for a moment, choosing to ignore Shawn's stubborn denial. "I have my travel case in the car, I can probably give you some meds. What are your symptoms?"

Shawn shrugged, giving in. "My stomach doesn't feel great. And my head's killing me."

"And you definitely have a fever," Gus pointed out. "You're probably getting the flu. I swear, if you get me sick..."

"Thanks for the concern, buddy."

"I'm just saying, Shawn. I'm nearly out of sick days."

"Well whose fault is that?"

Gus just glared at him. "I'll be right back." He hurried to his car to get his pharmaceutical case. When he returned to the office, he was glad to see Shawn sitting up straighter, a little more color in his face. "Take these," he said, handing Shawn some pills and a bottle of water.

Shawn didn't question the drugs. The pain in his stomach was still there and he'd do anything to make the pounding in his head go away.

"You good?" Gus asked when Shawn kept his eyes closed, swallowing hard. "If you're going to throw up, do it now, Shawn. My car is a company car and I need to return it in like-new condition."

It was Shawn's turn to glare now. "I'm fine. Let's just go. I'll fill you in on the case on the way."

It took all of Shawn's willpower not to throw up all over Gus's car. The pain was duller now but it had been replaced with an overwhelming nausea. He'd tried to explain the case to Gus but had grown silent after a few minutes, clamping his lips together tightly and resting his head against the window. He knew Gus was concerned, but his friend stayed quiet, knowing that Shawn was not up for talking right now.

They pulled up behind Lassiter's car, and Shawn stumbled out. "How you doing?" Gus asked, coming around to give Shawn a hand.

"A little better now that we've stopped moving," Shawn told him honestly. The car ride had been torture.

"We'll just check out the scene, okay? Then I'll take you over to your dad's place."

"You're gonna abandon me?" Shawn whined. "With _him?__"_

"I told you I have a date tonight," Gus reminded him. "With"

"The girl in 2B," Shawn finished. Gus had been trying to get the nerve to ask her out for weeks. "Who goes on a date on a Sunday, anyway?"

"She was busy every other day," Gus said, as if that was so obvious. And not suspicious at all.

"Then just take me to my apartment."

"I'm not leaving you alone when you're clearly sick. Maybe Juliet will come rescue you later."

Shawn smiled in spite of the pain in his stomach. "I hope so."

They walked over to where Lassiter, Juliet, and a number of crime scene investigators were gathered. Juliet saw them first and hurried over to say hi. She stopped when she saw Shawn.

"Shawn you look awful," she said, mimicking Gus's statement from earlier. Shawn tried to smile but he knew it came off as more of a grimace. Juliet had her hand to his head, checking for fever. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" she wasn't angry, he knew, but she almost sounded hurt that he'd kept her in the dark.

"I felt fine until this morning," he said, which was mostly true. "Just a bug, Jules."

Juliet clearly wasn't fooled. "You don't have to be here, Shawn. Go home, get some rest."

Shawn shook his head ever-so-slightly. "You kidding me? I've been itching to solve a case." When Juliet didn't give in, he relented a little. "I promise, Jules. After this I'll go home." Gus nodded, backing up Shawn's statement.

"I've already told him I'm taking him to his dad's," Gus told her, knowing that would ease her worry a little. Henry might be hard on Shawn, but he was still his father. He could be surprisingly caring when Shawn was sick. Juliet still looked unsure but nodded anyway.

"Body's this way," she told them, leading them to where Lassiter was yelling at a CSI. "This is Marsha Dunlap, the owner of this house and a prominent woman in Santa Barbara. She was found by her husband, Arthur Dunlap, early this morning. Apparently he came looking for her when she didn't join him for breakfast." Juliet finished, looking over to the boys. She expected to see Gus gagging at the body. It wasn't a pretty site – Mrs. Dunlap had died from a single blow to the head which had split her skull. Even Juliet had had a hard time looking at the body.

But Gus wasn't the one having a hard time, she quickly realized. Shawn had his eyes closed and his skin looked almost green. "What's the matter, Spencer?" Lassiter asked in a taunting manner. "I thought Guster was the one with the weak stomach. Haven't you ever seen human brains before?"

Shawn didn't answer, but it was obvious he was struggling not to be sick. "Carlton!" Juliet scolded. "He's not feeling well." Lassiter's face didn't lose the grin, though.

"Go home, Spencer. We don't need your help."

Shawn opened his eyes, his face composed. "Don't you ever get tired of being wrong, Lassie?"

Gus smiled, hoping the snarky comment was a sign that Shawn was feeling a little better.

Lassiter grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

"As I said before, boys. This is Marsha Dunlap. And that," Juliet said, pointing to a visibly distraught man seated on the porch of the house "is Arthur. We took his statement earlier, but if there are any questions you need to ask him, let us know."

Shawn studied the body, trying his best to avoid focusing on the gory mess that was Marsha's head. That proved incredibly difficult, however, as he needed to get some idea of the murder weapon. "Do you know what she was bludgeoned with?"

Lassiter answered this time. "There was no murder weapon on the scene, and until Woody does the autopsy, we won't know for sure."

"Why? Are you getting something?" Juliet asked, ignoring the glare Lassiter shot her.

Shawn squinted. "I can't be sure..." he broke off, when his eyes caught the glimpse of an odd shape in at the edge of the wound.

"Shawn?" Gus asked, recognizing his "I have a vision" face.

Shawn shook his head. "Vision gone. Seems my illness is keeping the spirits at bay," he groaned suddenly, curling forward a little.

"Quit exaggerating, Spencer," Lassie scolded, and Shawn was more than willing to let Gus and Jules believe he was just acting. He straightened up, trying his best not to wince.

"Gus, I believe you owe me a pineapple smoothie."

"Since when?" Gus asked, annoyed. The frustrated jab that Shawn gave him shut him up though. "Oh right, of course. Let's go, Shawn," Gus covered, realizing Shawn wanted to leave.

Shawn nodded, waving to Jules and Lassie and turning to follow his friend, weaving unsteadily on rubbery legs.

Juliet watched as the duo walked away, frowning in concern as she saw Shawn stumble. "I'll be right back," she told Carlton, ignoring whatever snarky comment he made in reply. She caught up to Shawn just as he reached the Blueberry. He had put his hand on the hood of the car, holding on tightly to keep from falling.

"Shawn," Juliet said gently, putting a hand on his back. Shawn didn't turn around but she could hear him breathing heavily, almost panting for breath. He turned towards her, his face ashen. "Oh Shawn," she said, obviously concerned. He closed his eyes against a sudden ripple of pain. "Do you need to sit down?"

Shawn shook his head minutely. "Think I'm gonna be sick," he groaned, pushing away from the car and walking two or so feet before bending over and vomiting helplessly onto the grass. He felt Juliet's hand on his back and could hear her trying to comfort him, but he couldn't concentrate on anything other than his aching stomach. He struggled to take in a few deep, calming breaths, willing himself not to be sick again. It didn't work and his stomach clenched as he emptied the rest of its contents.

When his stomach had finally calmed, he straightened up as best he could. Juliet had her hand on his forehead again and he leaned into it unconsciously.

"You're burning up. I really think you need to go home."

"He okay?" Gus asked, walking around the car but staying a few feet back, unwilling to set off his own sympathetic gag reflex. Juliet put her arm on Shawn's elbow and helped him back to Gus's car.

"No," she said, just as Shawn contradicted her with a weary "yes." Juliet turned to look at him. "You're _not_ okay, Shawn. There's nothing you two can do right now, anyway. Go home with Gus. I'll be over later and if there's anything new on the case, I'll make sure to brief you on it. Okay?"

Shawn knew there was no arguing with Jules at this point. And the truth was, he felt a thousand times worse than he had five minutes ago. He nodded pathetically, climbing into the passenger seat. "See you later?"

Juliet nodded, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead. "I promise. Feel better."

Gus said good bye to Juliet before rounding the car and getting into the driver's side. "I swear, if you puke in my car, Shawn..."

"If you don't stop telling me that, I'm gonna puke all over your car," Shawn said tiredly. Gus stared at him as if trying to decide whether or not he was serious. He felt a twinge of sympathy at how terrible Shawn clearly felt and turned the key. "Well, just let me know if you need me to pull over." Shawn didn't answer, and Gus pulled out of the driveway.

"Thanks buddy," Shawn mumbled, closing his eyes and trying to fall asleep. The motion of the car made him feel dizzy and he spent the rest of the ride pressing his hand tightly against his stomach, willing the pain to go away.

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><p>Continue? Thanks for reading!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! I haven't had power in my house since Saturday night because of a freak October snow storm. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews and I'm sorry if I didn't respond to all of them, but the whole no internet thing has been making things incredibly difficult. OH yeah, and just a note - this is set after season 5 ended, so there may be spoilers if you haven't seen past that. Jules and Shawn are dating in this story. Enjoy!**

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><p>Gus glanced nervously at his best friend. Shawn had been silent the entire ride, save for the few soft moans that he'd let out on occasion. His pallor didn't look good, and Gus could see beads of sweat on his forehead. "Shawn," he said softly, not wanting to wake him in case he'd actually been asleep. Shawn grunted in response, not lifting his head from where it rested against the window. "I don't have to go on my date tonight. I'll call Jackie, tell her I need to reschedule."<p>

Though it looked like it took Shawn considerable effort, he lifted his head up to face Gus. "No way, na ah. Then you'll just hold it over me." He cleared his throat, using his best Gus imitation for the next part. "_Remember __the __time __I __missed __my __date __with __the __hottie __in __2B __because __you __had __a __little __stomach__ache?__"_

Gus scoffed. "I don't sound like that, Shawn. And you know I wouldn't do that."

"Dude, you _still_ use the incident from when we were twelve and I ruined your chances with Mindy Philips."

"You told her I had Polio, Shawn."

"Well that's a terrible reason to call off a date. She was clearly very shallow – I was just looking out for you." Gus huffed out a breath in annoyance. "Okay okay, I'm sorry. But seriously, you don't need to..." Shawn broke off, clutching at his stomach.

"Shawn?" Gus asked worriedly, quickly glancing at his friend. "You need me to pull over?"

Shawn didn't answer – he couldn't, the pain in his stomach stealing his breath. Not hearing a response from Shawn, Gus pulled off into a gas station, turning to him. He put a hand on Shawn's shoulder, trying to get his friend to look him in the eye. "Hey, what's wrong?" Shawn straightened up as the pain seemed to dull.

"Just...don't feel good," he bit out, choosing to leave out the part about the sharp pain in his gut. "Probably just food poisoning."

"Doesn't seem like food poisoning. I think you need to go to the hospital." Gus turned back to face the road, already planning on heading to St. Thomas of the Apostles.

"Wait, wait, Gus no," Shawn said frantically. He hated hospitals – he'd rather suffer at his dad's house than spend five hours in a hospital waiting room. Especially for something as silly as a stomach ache. "Just take me to my dad's house. Please? I promise, if I'm still sick tomorrow, I'll make an appointment to see the doctor."

Gus seemed reluctant, but eventually nodded. "Damn right you will. I'll be over first thing in the morning and take you myself if I have to."

Shawn smiled, glad that Gus had agreed. "Deal." He settled back against the car seat as Gus pulled onto the road.

Henry was working in his garden when Gus's car pulled up, but he came around front to meet them, clearly surprised they were there. "Shouldn't you two be working on the Dunlap murder case?" he asked, walking to the shed to put away his tools. Shawn had struggled out of the passenger seat and was trying his best to straighten up. He and Gus walked over to where Henry was fiddling with his tools.

"How do you know about that case?" Shawn was looking on in disbelief at the number of random gardening instruments his father had. "Is this a whisk?" he asked, holding up a particularly odd-shaped tool. Henry grabbed it from him.

"A whisk is for cooking, Shawn, and it looks nothing like this. The chief called me this morning. I convinced her to put you two chuckle heads on the case. Are you telling me you're already slacking off?"

Shawn suppressed his urge to come back with a witty retort. The pain in his stomach was intensifying and he was beginning to feel nauseous again. "We checked out the scene already, but there wasn't really anything for us to do. Jules said she'd keep me updated."

"How are you going to have any psychic revelations if you're not snooping around? I _vouched_for you, kid."

"Actually, Mr. Spencer," Gus said, beginning to get annoyed himself. Couldn't Henry see that Shawn was sick? "Shawn's not feeling well and Juliet sent us home. I can't stay long, and I didn't think Shawn should be by himself."

To his credit, Henry did seem adequately concerned upon Gus's admission, finally seeming to notice his son's state.

"I'm fine, Gus. Just take me to my..._whoa_," Shawn reached out to grab on to the side of the shed as the world just seemed to turn upside down.

"Shawn?" Gus's worried voice cut through the haze, and he felt two sets of arms on his shoulders and around his back, keeping him vertical.

"Let's get him inside, Gus," Henry said, worry evident in his voice. They somehow managed to get Shawn up the steps and into the house, depositing him on the couch in Henry's living room. "Can you watch him for a minute? I'm just going to go grab some supplies." Henry didn't wait for an answer, hurrying away upstairs.

"Gus you can't leave me here," Shawn moaned quietly, lifting his head off the couch to look at his friend.

"Sorry, buddy. It's the only way I know you'll be okay."

"Trust me, if you leave me with him, I most definitely _won't_ be okay."

"Suck it up, Shawn. Juliet will be here later. Just take a nap – I'm sure you'll feel better if you rest."

Henry came pounding down the stairs, the heavy thud of his feet making Shawn wince. "So what are your symptoms?" he asked when he saw that Shawn was more aware now.

"It's just a little bug, Dad. Just need to sleep it off."

Knowing Shawn wouldn't admit to there being anything wrong, Henry simply ignored his answer and turned to Gus. "Gus?"

"He has a fever, his stomach hurts, and I'm pretty sure he's got a headache. Oh and he threw up at the crime scene." Henry raised an eyebrow at that, reaching forward and putting a hand on his son's forehead.

"Definitely a fever."

"Knock it off," Shawn grumbled, pushing his dad's hand off his head. "Thanks a lot, buddy," Shawn whispered angrily at Gus.

"Mindy Philips, Shawn!"

"You said you were over that!"

Gus shrugged, looking at his watch. "I should get going, actually. I'm picking Jackie up at four."

"Jackie?"

"Gus's soon-to-be latest failure," Shawn smirked.

"Shut up, Shawn!" Not thinking, Gus smacked his friend lightly in the stomach for that comment. Instead of laughing at Gus's annoyance, though, Shawn quickly curled in on himself, groaning. "Shawn?"

"'M fine. Just get outta here, Gus. I think you bruised my kidney."

"I barely touched you," Gus defended meekly, and that fact clearly added to his concern. "I'll call you after my date. Feel better, Shawn." Gus got up, saying a quick goodbye to Mr. Spencer before heading out the door.

Once Gus was gone, Henry took the opportunity to study his son. For someone so focused on noticing every detail, he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed how bad Shawn looked when they'd first arrived. But then he was too annoyed that the psych duo seemed to be slacking off already. Shawn was sitting on the couch, his head pressed back against the cushions. He could already tell from feeling Shawn's forehead that the kid was burning up, but he took out the thermometer anyway, wanting to know just how high his fever was.

"Open up, Shawn." Shawn opened one eye to glare distastefully at the instrument, but obeyed anyway. From past experience, he knew it was in his best interest to just do everything that his father said. Henry sat back, watching as Shawn began to shiver. It wasn't cold outside, and Henry's house was certainly warm enough, but the fever and illness were clearly affecting Shawn's ability to stay warm. Henry reached for one of the blankets he had brought downstairs, spreading it over his son. Shawn did his best to help out, gripping the blanket and pulling it around him.

The thermometer beeped and Henry took it from Shawn. "101.4," he read out. "I thought it would be higher with how bad you seem."

Shawn shrugged. "I told you I'm not that sick, dad. Just a stomach bug." Henry didn't say anything, but Shawn could tell he seemed a little relieved that it didn't seem too serious.

"Well you still need to rest." Henry helped Shawn shrug off his jacket, then placed two pillows at one end of the couch.

"You want me to sleep in here?"

"The Padres game is on and I want to keep an eye on you. You can watch the game with me, but it looks like you're about ready to pass out." He pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen, shaking out two tablets. "For the fever," he said, handing them to Shawn along with a bottle of water. Shawn took the pills gratefully, taking a few sips of water to wash them down. He handed the bottle back to his dad, putting a hand up to his head at the headache that still throbbed there. "C'mon, kid, lie down. You don't have to sleep, but at least try to rest."

Shawn made a small sound of protest as Henry coaxed him to lie down. The nausea from earlier was returning and he was worried the change in position would intensify it. The small sips of water he'd taken were sitting heavily in his stomach and he gulped hard, pushing against his dad's hands.

"You going to be sick?" Henry asked, hands hovering near a bucket he seemed to produce from nowhere.

Shawn pressed a hand against his mouth, swallowing hard again. When he was pretty sure he had his stomach under control, he shook his head slightly. "I'm okay now," he said, knowing it sounded very unconvincing. His father watched him for another minute before helping him lie back against the pillows.

"Need anything?"

"I'm good," Shawn said tiredly, his eyes already closing. "Thanks Dad," he whispered before falling asleep.

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><p>Shawn lay awake for a few minutes, listening to the soft sounds from the TV. The Padres were beating the Mets 4-2 in the seventh inning – no surprise there. There was another, more grating noise, but Shawn couldn't figure out where it was coming from and he didn't feel well enough to look around. He didn't want to wake up. The short nap had done nothing for his stomach or his headache, and he felt a thousand times worse.<p>

"Dad?" Shawn croaked out, wondering where his father was. It took him a minute before he realized the other noise he'd been hearing was his dad snoring. Of course his father would fall asleep at three o'clock in the afternoon. Shawn closed his eyes again, hoping he could fall back asleep, but he couldn't seem to block out the other noises, and his headache was bordering on migraine level. "Dad," he groaned again, hoping he didn't sound as pathetic as he felt.

Sitting up was a _bad_ idea. If Shawn had felt dizzy before, now he felt like he was on a fast-moving Tilt-A-Whirl. He closed his eyes quickly, but the spinning feeling didn't disappear. Shawn swallowed thickly, knowing there was no way to quell the nausea this time. He opened his eyes, hoping his father hadn't moved the bucket from earlier. Luckily, Henry must have known that Shawn would be needing it in the not-too-distant future, and Shawn immediately grabbed the bucket, holding it close as his stomach rebelled.

Shawn vaguely thought he heard his dad calling out his name, but he was too busy evacuating the contents of his stomach to listen. Strong hands were on his back then, and Shawn whimpered as his stomach clenched again. "Shh, kid. You're okay." Henry kept his a hand on his son's back, the other steadying the bucket as Shawn's whole body seemed to be wracked with shivers. He kept up the soothing mantra until it appeared Shawn was finished. "I'm just going to get some water," Henry told him, taking the bucket and disappearing into the kitchen.

Shawn leaned back against the couch, completely and utterly spent. The room seemed to tilt and spin in a hazy motion and Shawn groaned when closing his eyes offered him no reprieve. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this sick. "Shawn." His dad was back, carrying a glass of water and the newly-cleaned bucket. "How you doing, kiddo?"

"Peachy," he whispered, frowning at the hoarseness of his voice. Shawn coughed against his hand, wincing again.

"Here, rinse your mouth out," his dad instructed, giving him the water and holding up the bucket.

Shawn gratefully swished the water in his mouth, glad to get the bitter taste of bile out of it. "Ugh."

"Still think it's just a little bug?"

Shawn shrugged. "Maybe not so little. I feel awful," he admitted.

"You think you can try and sleep some more?" Shawn didn't answer, but he did allow his dad to help him lie down. Henry's hand was on his forehead then, but it felt cool and comforting, and Shawn didn't bat it away this time. "Go to sleep, Shawn. I'm not going anywhere."

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><p><em>TBC...I'd love any feedback!<em>


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks so much for your reviews! They definitely make me want to write more and faster :)**

**The only thing I know about wrestling, or WWE, or whatever it's called, is what I learned from a second-grader I was babysitting when he was playing his Wii. So anyway, I wanted to put a rumble in here, but I know nothing about it. From what I understand, in the 80s, when Duggan and Ritter were fighting, it was the WWF, so that's what I'm going with here. If it's wrong, I'm sorry! It's a small part anyway.**

**Not much action in this chapter, but then I don't know if this is really an action-type fic. I don't even know how the murder case is supposed to be solved, but that's for next chapter...hope you enjoy this one – it's just h/c with a lot of Jules and some Henry.**

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><p>"<em>And now entering the ring, Shawn Spen-star and Gus T.T. Showbiz!" The crowd went wild as Jim Ross's voice echoed around the WWF arena. Shawn looked nervously at Gus as the spotlights landed on them.<em>

"_Gus? What's going on?"_

"_I don't know! But it's your fault."_

_Shawn was about to protest, when the crowd started booing. "I think they want us to go in the ring, Gus." Shawn whispered, motioning to the ring where Sylvester Ritter and Jim Duggan waited, looking menacing. "Come on, Gus! When are we ever going to get the chance to fight the Junkyard Dog and Hacksaw?"_

"_Sylvester Ritter is dead, Shawn."_

"_Exactly!"_

"_They didn't get those nicknames for being nice." Gus wasn't budging._

"_Well I'm going in." Shawn said, heading for the ring. Gus hung back but predictably followed his best friend into battle._

"_Are you ready to rumbbbbbble?" the announcer shouted once they'd climbed in. The starting bell rang and the crowd went wild._

_Gus went down before he'd even been hit, grabbing at his hamstring. Both hamstrings. Shawn didn't back down, though, dodging the blows from the much larger men and managing to get in a few kicks of his own. "Hey buddy! C'mon get up, this is fu..." but Shawn didn't finish, taking two quick hits to the head. There wasn't anything he could do – he couldn't get a hand up to block, and he was too dizzy to try to fight back. Mercifully, he felt a lapse in the attack, and he squinted back at Duggan through his half-opened eyes. He had a second to question where Ritter had disappeared to, right before he saw the fighter jumping through the air, leg outstretched as he aimed for Shawn's stomach, connecting with a force that sent him flying on his back. He curled in on himself, in agony at the pain that resulted from the kick, like a_ _white-hot poker being jabbed repeatedly into his gut._..

"Shawn! Shawn, wake up, it's just a nightmare."

Shawn opened his eyes, relieved when he saw Juliet looking down on him instead of the menacing faces of the WWF wrestlers. "Jules?" he gasped, trying to sit up, but she stilled him with a hand on his shoulder. "A nightmare?" he questioned, trying to shake off the fogginess of sleep.

Juliet nodded. "You were shouting something about a hacksaw and a junkyard dog," she told him, obviously amused. "And I got the impression that Gus was there."

Shawn smirked. "We were in a rumble."

Juliet still watched him, confused.

Shawn groaned, clutching at his head. "Jim Duggan and Sylvester Ritter kept hitting me in the head, and then they kicked me in the stomach...and Gus wimped out."

Juliet couldn't help but laugh at Shawn's ridiculous statement, but she immediately grew serious again when it was obvious that Shawn was in pain.

"Sure feels real, Jules," he groaned, shifting restlessly.

Juliet put a hand to his forehead and he stopped squirming. "I know," she whispered. "You're really sick, Shawn." She placed something cool and wet on his forehead, and he may have moaned at the relief that brought.

"Where's my dad?" Shawn asked when he opened his eyes and noticed his father was gone.

"He just went to the supermarket for a little."

Shawn rubbed his eyes, struggling to sit up. Juliet tried to stop him but he shook his head. "Help me up?"

Juliet sighed, putting a hand under his elbow and helping him. "You should really be lying down."

"Tired of sleeping," he explained.

"You don't have to sleep, Shawn, but I can tell that your head is killing you. Wouldn't you be more comfortable lying down?"

Shawn shook his head slightly, and Juliet found she couldn't argue with how pathetic he looked. Instead, she climbed onto the couch next to him and pulled him over so that he was leaning against her, his head on her shoulder.

"Jules?" he mumbled quietly after they'd been sitting there for about five minutes.

"Yeah Shawn?"

He lifted his head off her shoulder to look at her. "Did you find anything out about the case?"

Juliet looked at him incredulously. "You really want to think about a case now? And not even an exciting one at that."

"C'mon, Jules," he wheedled.

"Shawn, really there's not much to say. The Dunlaps had a large estate and many people worked for them – it could have been any number of people. Carlton's currently interviewing them."

Shawn looked at Juliet skeptically. "How come you're not interviewing them with him?"

"Because my boyfriend is a stubborn child when it comes to his health," she said, and it came out harsher than she'd intended. She softened her expression. "He had it covered, Shawn, and I wanted to come check on you. Like I said, it's a boring case."

Shawn seemed to accept that and he let his head rest on Juliet's shoulder again. Juliet stroked a hand through his hair, checking to see if his fever had gone up. "Do you feel better than before?" she asked softly, not wanting to jostle him too much.

Shawn groaned slightly and Juliet didn't know if that was a 'yes' or a 'no.' "Stomach hurts a lot," he admitted quietly. Juliet had moved her hand to his back and was rubbing it gently.

"Did your dad give you anything for the fever?"

Shawn nodded against her shoulder. "Yeah, but I threw up again." He moaned at the pain in his stomach, leaning forward slightly.

"Do you want me to see if there's anything else for you to take?"

"N..o," Shawn choked out. "Don't wanna be sick again," his voice broke, and Juliet could tell he felt awful.

"Shhh, you're okay," she soothed as he moaned again. "C'mon, Shawn, lie down." She gently moved his head off her shoulder, helping him stretch out against the couch again. He didn't protest this time, trying his best to help.

They heard the distinctive sound of Henry's car pulling up then, and Shawn groaned again. Juliet hit him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't do that, Shawn. Your dad's been really sweet."

"Don't use 'my dad' and 'sweet' in the same sentence again, Jules. Please don't tell me you're leaving now."

"No, I'm going to stay until Gus gets here later. Then I have to head back to the station."

"Gus is coming?" Shawn asked, his voice eager.

"Yeah, I talked to him before his date. He said he'd be over right after."

"Tell him not to come."

"What?" Juliet asked, confused.

"I can't be his excuse for ending the date early, Jules. He'll never let me live it down."

"Shawn, he's worried about you."

"I'm fine," Shawn murmured.

"Juliet?" Juliet looked towards the kitchen where Henry was calling.

"Be right back. Stay here." She gave Shawn a quick kiss on the head before hurrying into the kitchen.

"Mr. Spencer," she said, entering the room. He gave her a look and she corrected herself. "I mean, Henry."

"That's better. How's he doing?" Henry began unpacking his shopping bags, and Juliet went to help him.

"Stubborn, as usual. I think his fever is up and he still has a bad headache."

"How about his stomach?"

"He says it hurts. He wouldn't let me give him anything for the pain though."

"Still nauseous?"

Juliet nodded. "Yeah. And dizzy. He didn't want to drink anything because he didn't want to be sick again."

Henry made a noise of disapproval. "He's going to get dehydrated. I'll have to force him to drink something."

"Yeah," Juliet agreed, glad that Henry was here so she wouldn't be the bad one forcing Shawn to drink when he refused. "What'd you buy?"

"Flu medicine, Gatorade, and some Saltines for Shawn. And steak for us."

Juliet grinned. "I'm sure Shawn will be thrilled."

Shawn's eyes were closed when she and Henry returned to the living room, but Juliet could tell he wasn't sleeping very deeply. He was stirring restlessly, making soft sounds of discomfort. "Should we let him sleep?"

Henry shook his head, "He doesn't look too restful, as it is. I'll see if I can't get him to drink now." He crouched down, shaking Shawn's shoulder gently. It didn't take much for Shawn to wake up, but he closed his eyes immediately when he saw who it was that had disturbed him. "Hey, hey, stay awake, Shawn. I have some medicine for you to take, and you need to drink some water."

Shawn shook his head, his eyes still closed. "Don't want anything."

"Tough, Shawn. I know you feel crappy, but you need to keep drinking. You'll feel much worse if you get dehydrated."

"Jules?" Shawn whimpered pathetically.

"Sorry Shawn, I'm with your dad on this one."

"Fine," Shawn grumbled.

"C'mon let's get you up," Henry told him, taking an arm and gently putting it over his shoulder. By the time he had Shawn vertical, his son was sweating and panting, his head bent low. "Shawn?" he asked, crouching down to look him in the eye.

Shawn swallowed hard, eyeing the meds and water that Juliet held out. "Don't think...that's gonna stay down," he breathed.

"Bucket's right here, kid. But you need to try."

Shawn reluctantly took the glass and the pills from Juliet, swallowing them with as little water possible.

"Try to drink some more water, Shawn," Juliet said sweetly, and Shawn couldn't help but comply. He finished ¾ of the glass, then handed it back to Juliet, pressing a hand to his forehead.

"Good, Shawn." Henry told him. "Try and get some sleep now. I'll make an appointment with the doctor in the morning."

Shawn shimmied on the couch so he was lying down again, and his dad pulled the blankets up to his shoulders. Juliet returned with a cool washcloth placing it on his forehead. "Feel better, okay? It's been boring at the station without you."

"Kay," Shawn murmured. "Night, Jules."

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><p><em>As I said, short chapter without much happening. Next chapter will be better, I promise...if you review.<em>


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry this update took a little while – I've had a ton of things to do this week. Thank you for the amazing reviews! I _love_ hearing from you guys. Enjoy!**

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><p>Juliet wasn't there when he woke up, and when Shawn finally got the energy to lift his head up, he saw that his father wasn't there either. But there <em>was<em> another person in the room with him. Shawn chuckled at the sight of Gus, tucked in and sleeping on the arm chair just across from him. Shawn sat up as slowly and as quietly as possible, allowing himself a minute for the room to stop spinning before he opened his eyes.

The room looked hazy, and he could tell from the sticky hotness that he still had a fever. His head didn't hurt as badly, and Shawn silently thanked his father for forcing him to take the flu meds. His stomach still hurt, but it was a dull ache, much better than the stabbing pain he'd felt before. All in all, Shawn decided, he felt okay. Well, relatively. He knew there was no avoiding the doctor's appointment his father had promised he'd make, but that was better than the hospital trip Gus had threatened earlier.

Once the dizziness had settled down, Shawn was able to take notice of another pressing need – he _really_ had to pee. Shawn glanced over at Gus who was snoring softly now, completely unaware of Shawn's predicament. He pushed himself to his feet, surprised at how rubbery his legs felt. Fighting a head rush, Shawn made his way towards the bathroom, weaving drunkenly on unsteady legs.

After he'd finished, Shawn studied himself in the mirror. No wonder Jules and his dad had seemed so worried – he looked _awful_. His skin was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes. His hair looked good, though.

"Shawn?" Shawn looked towards the living room and Gus's worried voice.

"In here," Shawn said as loudly as possible, which was barely above a whisper.

"Shawn!" Gus repeated, obviously not hearing his friend's response. The padding of footsteps down the hall told Shawn that Gus was coming to him, and in 5 seconds he was standing in front of the doorway. "What are you doing up?"

"Had to pee," Shawn explained, the energy he'd mustered to go to the bathroom already waning. Gus noticed, going to his side and letting Shawn lean against his shoulder as they began their walk back to the living room. Shawn didn't speak during the short trip, too concentrated on breathing and staying upright. Once Gus had settled him down on the couch, he closed his eyes, pressing a hand to his forehead. The headache was returning and he was already feeling nauseous again. When Shawn opened his eyes, it was to Gus's concerned look. "How was the date?" Shawn asked, hoping to dispel any questions about his health.

Gus eyed him for a minute, deciding to accept Shawn's diversion for now. He grinned widely. "Ah-mazing. Jackie thought it was so sweet that I needed to cut the date short to stay with a sick friend. We've already got another date planned."

Shawn huffed out a laugh. "I'm glad you could use my illness to score with the ladies." He held out his fist and Gus triumphantly bumped it with his. "So you've been here all night? Where's my dad?"

"Yeah, got here around midnight, but you were dead asleep. Your dad's at the station, he said he had to do some paperwork, but he wanted me to tell you he made an appointment with your doctor for 10 o'clock. And Jules gave me some crime photos for you to look at, but she made me promise not to show you unless you were feeling better..." Gus trailed off, eyeing his friend. "You don't look so good, though."

"Are you kidding me, Gus? Look at this hair – how can you say I don't look _good_?"

"You look like you're going to pass out, Shawn."

Shawn groaned. He was feeling crappy again and he knew Gus could read him like a book. "Yeah, you're right. But can I please see the photos? I'm not going to be able to rest unless you show me."

Gus knew Shawn was serious, so he handed over the photos without much hesitation. "They're pretty gruesome."

Shawn didn't answer, focusing on one picture in particular. "Gus," he said slowly, "I've seen this shape before. Dude! I know who the killer is!"

Gus took the photo from Shawn. "Seriously?"

"Positive. We need to go to the department right now." Shawn tried to push himself up but his arms gave out and he fell back onto the couch.

"Na ah, no way. Your dad specifically told me to make sure you didn't go anywhere. No way am I getting in trouble because of you."

"Gusssss," Shawn whined. "If you don't take me, I'll find my own way there. I'll walk if I have to."

"Why can't you just call Juliet?"

"This calls for a big reveal. C'mon, buddy. It's been so long since I've had one. People are beginning to think I'm not psychic!"

"You aren't."

"Gus don't be a pouchless kangaroo! The department is on the way to the doctor's. We swing by the station, I stun and amaze everyone with my psychic talents, and we're at my appointment with time to spare. It's perfect!" Shawn tried to stand again, this time succeeding. "I'm going with or without you, Gus."

Gus knew he should ignore Shawn's threats, let him figure out on his own that there was no way he was going to make it to the car by himself. But somehow Gus knew Shawn would find a way, even if he had to crawl there. And then Henry would really be pissed. Deciding it was in both of their best interests to just drive to the station, Gus relented. "Fine, but if your dad kills me, I will slap you."

"You can't slap me. You'll be dead."

"I will come back as a ghost, just to slap you."

"Ghosts can't slap, Gus."

"You ever see Ghost? I will Patrick Swayze your ass."

Shawn paused for a second. "Touche, buddy. He won't kill you, Gus. Just tell him it was my fault."

"It _is_ your fault."

"Exactly. Okay, buddy, let's go!" Shawn had somehow found the energy to jog out to the car.

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><p>"I'm <em>so <em>going to regret this," Gus groaned, following his best friend at a much slower pace. If Shawn had the energy to be running around, though, Gus reasoned he couldn't be too bad off. Maybe Henry wouldn't kill him, after all.

Not surprisingly, Shawn's burst of strength was short-lived. Once he'd gotten to the confines of the car, his energy was sapped. Gus glanced over at his best friend, already regretting going along with the idiotic plan. "How you doing?" he asked, hoping Shawn's answer would dispel his concerns.

"I'm great, Gus."

_Okay, __that __was __definitely __sarcasm. __I'm __gonna __kill __him_. "Just hang in there. I'm gonna kill you when you're better."

"You and my dad both. And maybe Jules."

"Definitely Jules."

Shawn chuckled. "Yeah. Okay, I'm not going to answer you until we get to the SBPD, so no more questions."

Gus didn't respond, turning on the radio instead, singing along loudly to Hall & Oates.

Shawn groaned, putting his hands over his ears. "No noises, Gus!"

"My car, my rules." But he turned the music off, anyway.

"Thanks," Shawn mumbled after a minute.

"Don't mention it." They sat in companionable silence the rest of the ride, the only noises the soft moans that Shawn let out on occasion, indications that he was not nearly better.

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><p>Shawn threw up the second Gus stopped the car, clutching his stomach in pain as he panted. "Dammit, Shawn," Gus murmured, suppressing his urge to gag and circling the car to help his ailing friend.<p>

"No, no, it's okay, buddy. Just some rotten eggs or something, I'm fine."

"You haven't eaten in almost a day, Shawn. I'm getting your dad and we're going to the doctor's now. I don't care if your appointment isn't for another hour."

"But Gus! We're already here, it'll just take a sec!" Shawn climbed out of the car, keeping a hand on the door until he was sure he wouldn't fall. Again, he was somehow able to suppress the weakness, and Shawn stumbled up the steps and through the doors unassisted.

"Jules!" Shawn spotted the detective by her desk and hurried over to her, Gus trailing behind.

"Shawn? What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"I solved the case!"

"Spencer, aren't you supposed to be home?" Lassiter came over to the trio.

"Yes, I am Lassie, thank you for caring."

"I didn't say..."

"I heard it," Gus interjected.

"Me too," Jules added.

"Enough! Why are you two here? I told you we don't need you."

"I solved the case," Shawn said smugly. "Looks like you needed us after all."

"How the hell..." Lassiter trailed off in disbelief.

"I know, I'm amazing," Shawn said, but without his usual cockiness. Beads of sweat were dripping down his face and the room refused to stay still. "Where's my dad, anyways?" he asked quietly.

"He's in with the chief," Juliet told him. "I'm guessing he doesn't know you're here?" Shawn shook his head tightly, his eyes closed. "Hey," Juliet said softly, her arm on his shoulder. "I think you should sit down." Juliet guided Shawn to her chair, keeping her hand on him.

"He's got a doctor's appointment in an hour, but he insisted on coming here."

"Alright then, who's the killer?" Lassiter waited for Shawn to go into one of his psychic trances, knowing it would be at least another fifteen minutes before the psychic actually told them his theory. So he was surprised when Shawn didn't even put his hand to his head in his psychic pose.

"The gardener," Shawn said tiredly.

Juliet looked at her partner. "He was one of your suspects, right?"

Lassiter nodded. "What makes you think it was him?" he directed his question to Shawn.

"I'm psychic," Shawn answered, though his voice lacked its usual smugness.

"That's not enough to arrest someone, Shawn."

Shawn looked at Juliet. "The head wound – there's a strange pattern at the edge, where the victim was struck. It's a gardening tool, you'll find it in the tool shed." Shawn didn't add the part that he had seen his dad using that very oddly-shaped tool just the day before.

Lassiter nodded. "We'll check that out. Anything else?"

When Shawn didn't answer, the head detective thought he was just being an ass and ignoring him, but it quickly became obvious the consultant was in pain. "Spencer, are you okay?"

Shawn gasped in pain, grabbing at his side.

"Shawn!" Juliet cried, crouching down and gripping his arm tightly.

But Shawn didn't answer, crying out in pain as his the cramp in his stomach intensified to unbearable levels.

"Shawn, where is the pain strongest?" Gus asked, somehow remaining calm.

"Uhhhh," Shawn choked out. "Here," he said, pointing to a spot low on the right side of his abdomen.

"Shit," Gus murmured, and Juliet looked up at him with a knowing glance. "How could I not think of that?"

Shawn let out another sharp cry, and it was obvious that the pain was getting worse.

"He needs a hospital," Lassiter said. "I'll radio for one right now. O'Hara, let's get him on the floor, get him comfortable. Guster, go find his father." Gus was suddenly grateful the head detective was there, giving orders when it seemed all Gus and Juliet could do was worry. He nodded, running off to the chief's office.

Lassiter draped one of Shawn's arms over his shoulder, taking almost all of the psychic's weight as he and Juliet guided him to the floor. Juliet shimmied behind Shawn, resting his head in her lap.

"J...ules?" Shawn choked out, his head moving restlessly in her lap.

"Shhh, Shawn, it's okay. We're getting you help." He nodded wordlessly, and she brushed his hair back off his sweat-slicked forehead. Juliet heard Lassiter radioing for an ambulance, his voice urgent.

"Shawn!" Henry Spencer's worried voice echoed off the halls of the SBPD as he hurried to where Shawn lay. He crouched beside his son. "Why the hell didn't you stay in bed?"

Shawn couldn't help but laugh at his father's ridiculous question. "Don't...think it would have...mattered, Dad."

"How's the pain, Kid?"

"Feels...like I'm being...stabbed with a white-hot...fire poker thingy." Shawn tried to curl in on himself, fingers digging into his side to try and relieve the pain.

"Hey, hey, Shawn, calm down," Henry ordered, helping Juliet hold him down.

Lassiter had noticed how guilty Gus looked and went over to him. "He's going to be fine, Guster. No one else knew either."

Gus shook his head, his eyes focused on Shawn. "What if his appendix burst? People die from that."

"I'm sure it didn't burst," Lassiter said confidently, though knowing Shawn it probably had. The damn psychic never could do anything halfway. The ambulance sirens sounded then, seeming to snap Gus out of his guilt-induced stupor. He hurried to Shawn's side, wanting to let his best friend know he was there.

A crowd of officers had gathered around the scene, interested in seeing what all the commotion was about. Their whispers suddenly seemed so loud, and Lassiter looked over at them, annoyed. "Everybody, move away!" he said angrily, his voice leaving no room for discussion. The chief had approached him from behind, and he heard her amused chuckle at the rest of the department's reaction to the head detective.

"Nicely done, detective. How's Mr. Spencer?"

Lassiter vaguely motioned to the floor where Shawn was writhing in pain as Juliet, Gus, and Henry tried to calm him. "Not good."

"Da...ad," Shawn's voice was laced with pain.

"You're okay, son. Just breathe through it. The ambulance is here." Shawn's hand gripped Juliet's tightly as another wave of lighting-hot pain shot through him.

"Kay," he mumbled, then immediately passed out.

"Shawn!" Gus shouted, for a second convinced his best friend had stopped breathing.

"Move away!" the paramedics pushed through the crowd, arriving at Shawn's side and immediately taking his vitals. "We need some space, people. High fever, thready pulse. Get the stretcher, we need to move."

They got Shawn loaded on the stretcher incredibly quickly, and by the time the EMTs were ready to roll him out, Shawn was conscious again. He tried to talk, but his voice was muffled by the constrictive oxygen mask.

"Your dad's going to ride with you, Shawn. We'll be right behind you," Juliet assured him, squeezing his hand once more.

"See you soon, buddy," Gus assured him, lightly punching the fist that Shawn had somehow managed to hold out. Gus turned to Jules, noticing her worried expression. "He'll be okay," he told her, a hand on her shoulder. Shawn had better be alright. Or Gus was going to kill him.

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><p><em>TBC – good job to those of you who guessed appendicitis. Sorry the case was so weak, but it was just really an excuse to have Shawn working with the SBPD. Hope you're still enjoying the story. Thanks for reading, I'd love to hear what you think!<em>


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for taking so long to post! I've been busy at work and then I was traveling this weekend, so I haven't really had time to write. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! They made me so happy. We're not finished yet! I couldn't help myself, so there's more hurting of Shawn to come...Also, I took a little time to research the medical treatment of a ruptured appendix, but then I just got fed up and made up my own stuff. So yeah, everything in here relating to medicine or treatment or whatever is not accurate. Thanks for reading! Reviews make me write faster...**

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><p>Henry Spencer had been through many stressful situations during his tenure as an SBPD detective. He'd experienced shootouts and high-speed chases and even the occasional bomb threat. But sitting here in the cramped space of the ambulance, watching his son writhe in pain – he'd never felt more terrified in his life.<p>

"Da...ad?" Shawn coughed out in response to his dad's hand squeezing his shoulder.

"I'm right here, kid," Henry reassured him.

"Don't..." he broke off, coughing, "don't kill...Gus."

"What? Why on earth would I kill Gus?"

"For...for bringing me to the department. Was...my...fault." Shawn was practically wheezing now, and the paramedic shot an annoyed glance at Henry.

"It's best if he doesn't try to talk."

Henry ignored the man, knowing that Shawn needed his father's reassurance that he would not be killing his best friend any time soon, whether that was rational or not. "Trust me, I know it was _your_ fault, Shawn. And anyway, it worked out better this way. The station is closer to the hospital, and Lassiter really helped keep everyone calm. Gus and Juliet were nervous wrecks."

Henry could see Shawn smiling underneath the oxygen mask. "Atta boy...Lassie." Henry chuckled, patting his son's shoulder. "So it's my appendix?" Shawn asked after a few minutes had passed. The pain seemed to be dialing down a bit, and Henry assumed it was a result of whatever drug the paramedic had injected him with.

"Looks like it, kid. They're gonna need to take it out."

Shawn grimaced. "Gus said they can do that without really...cutting into me."

Henry nodded. "They can do it laproscopically now. With a very small incision," he added, realizing there was no way Shawn knew what laproscopic meant. Henry also felt it unnecessary to bring up the possibility that Shawn's appendix had burst. If that was the case, they would _definitely_be cutting into him. But Shawn was already in enough distress without the added fear brought on by the possibility of surgery.

"Good." Shawn whispered, closing his eyes. His breathing was still labored, but he had calmed down considerably. Just when Henry thought he was going to doze off, Shawn spoke up again. Kid really didn't like doing what was best for him. "I solved the case," he said, looking up to see Henry giving him a look of disbelief.

"Was that why you needed to come down to the station even when you were sick as a dog?"

"You're...a dog."

"Shawn."

Shawn smirked, satisfied he'd annoyed his dad. "Had to...make sure Lassie...couldn't solve it first and take all the credit." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Couldn't have done it without you though, dad."

At that, Henry looked confused. "I had nothing to do with this case, Shawn."

Shawn nodded jerkily. "You and your...girly...gardening...tools. Gah...Dad." His breathing sped up as a particularly strong pain jolted through him. Shawn's hand reached up, searching for his dad's hand or arm, anything to hold onto.

"Shawn," Henry grabbed his son's hand, looking at the paramedic. "Can you give him anything else?"

The paramedic shook his head reluctantly. "We need to wait for him to get checked by the doctor first. We're only five minutes out now."

Henry was about to argue when he felt Shawn squeeze his hand. "Dad, s'ok," Shawn said, preempting his father's aggression. "Just...keep talking?"

Henry nodded. "Right. Okay. So it was the gardener then?"

"Uh huh. He killed her with that weird...whisk thing you have."

"Not a whisk, kid."

"Still girly." Shawn squeezed his eyes closed tightly.

"Almost there, Shawn." Shawn nodded but didn't open his eyes. "Do you want me to call your mom?"

He did open his eyes at that, hadn't even thought about his mom. "I'll...call."

Henry nodded tightly, feeling an unexpected swell of emotion. Of course Shawn would call her, because he was going to be just fine. He had to be. "Sounds good, kid."

The blaring sirens turned off suddenly and the ambulance pulled to a stop. Before Henry had a chance to offer Shawn any more reassurances, the paramedics had lowered his son's stretcher out of the ambulance and were already rushing him into the ER. _They__wouldn't__be__in__such__a__hurry__if__it__was__just__appendicitis_. The unwelcome thoughts crept into Henry's head as he hurried after the paramedics, pushing his way into the hospital and searching desperately for his son.

Henry found Shawn or, rather, heard him, in a curtained-off area where doctors and nurses were hooking him up to machines and monitors, trying to stop him from squirming. But Shawn was alone, scared, and in pain, and Henry knew their firm hands and stern voices would be futile. Ignoring the protests of the medical professionals, Henry worked his way next to his son's gurney, grabbing a hold of one of Shawn's flailing hands.

"Shawn," he said, his voice strong but low. "You need to calm down, kid. They're just trying to help you."

Shawn calmed a little at Henry's voice, but still struggled against the hands holding him down. He tried to curl in on himself to alleviate the stomach pain and shield himself from whatever was hurting him. Shawn let out a moan when the hands didn't relent and the pain only continued to intensify.

"Sir?" Henry turned to see a petite nurse looking up at him. "Are you his father?" Henry nodded and the nurse took him by the elbow. "I'm sorry, but you really can't be here. We need..."

"Dad?" Shawn choked out, cutting her off. Henry's attention immediately returned to his ailing son.

"Shawn," Henry repeated. "How you doing?"

"Not...good." The nurse was tugging on his arm again, and Henry knew he was going to be kicked out soon.

"I know, kid, but they're gonna make you better, okay?" Shawn nodded jerkily. "I'm going to be waiting right outside with Gus and Juliet." Shawn nodded again, looking his dad in the eyes.

"Thanks...dad."

Henry nodded his head once, squeezing Shawn's shoulder. "See you later, kid." He turned to leave, wishing he couldn't hear Shawn's quiet moans of pain as he walked away.

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><p>Gus was all nervous energy, pacing the waiting room, refusing to stand still for even a moment. "Why aren't they done yet?" he asked aloud. "Shouldn't they be done now?"<p>

Juliet looked up at him from her seat next to Henry, traces of tears still visible on her face. It was Henry that answered though. "You heard what the doctor said. They'll update us when they know something. Now sit down, Gus. You're making me dizzy."

Gus reluctantly took a seat, immediately bouncing his leg up and down. "Did you call Mrs. Spencer?"

Henry shook his head absently, feeling Gus's and Juliet's eyes on him. "Shawn wanted to be the one to call." Apparently that was all the answer they needed. He turned to Juliet, knowing Shawn would want him to cheer her up, but he couldn't think of anything to say that would do that. Instead, he tried to get her mind on something else. "Shawn said he solved the case," Henry said softly, prompting Juliet to continue. She laughed lightly.

"Carlton still needs to process the evidence and interview the gardener again, but I wouldn't be surprised if he confesses." Juliet paused for a moment, musing. "Amazing that he could solve a case even when he was so sick."

Henry chuckled. "And yet he won't do a simple thing like mow my lawn when he's perfectly fine."

"Shawn's selectively hard-working," Gus added.

"How was your date, Gus?" Juliet asked after a minute of silence.

"Was that only yesterday?" he asked aloud, not waiting for an answer. "Best date I've had in years, mainly because I had to end it early to go see Shawn. She liked that I was caring."

Henry smirked. "I bet Shawn was proud when you told him that."

"Yeah, except now he's taking all the credit. Takes away some of my bargaining chips."

"What bargaining chips?" Juliet asked, curious.

"From all the times he's screwed me over in the past with girls. I've still got quite a few left, though, if that's any indication of our friendship."

Another doctor came out and everyone grew quiet, waiting expectantly for him to approach them. But the doctor walked past, going to inform another family of their loved one's condition. The three went back to waiting in nervous anticipation, the momentary levity forgotten as their worry for Shawn increased.

It had been four hours since the ambulance had rushed Shawn to the hospital; three and a half since the doctor had updated them on Shawn's condition. Turned out his appendix _had_ ruptured, though Henry guessed he'd been expecting that. The doctor had said they'd be taking him into surgery, seeing if they could flush out the peritoneal cavity and get the infection under control. Lucky for Shawn, his appendix had _just_ burst – probably at the station. Had that not been the case, they'd be dealing with a much more complicated situation. And this was bad enough, Henry thought.

"Mr. Spencer?" Henry looked up to see a different doctor looking down at him; the surgeon, he guessed.

Henry quickly stood, seeing Juliet and Gus do the same out of the corner of his eye.

"How's my boy?"

'The surgery went as well as we could have hoped. We removed the appendix and flushed out the infection. Now we just have to wait and see how Shawn's body responds, but things are looking good."

"Thank you," Henry said sincerely. "Can we see him?"

"Shawn's in recovery right now, but we'll be moving him shortly. I'll have a nurse come get you when he's settled." Henry thanked the doctor again, then returned to his seat to wait once more.

It was still another hour before a nurse came to get them, and it felt considerably longer than that. The nurse gave them a quick smile when she approached. "You're here for Shawn, right? They said it would be easy to spot you three."

"Is Shawn awake?" Juliet asked eagerly.

"He is. Come on, I'll take you to his room." They followed the nurse down the hospital corridor, listening intently as she explained Shawn's condition. "He's still in the ICU, but as long as he continues to improve, he'll be moved out of there before night. The surgery went well, but his body is still fighting the infection, so his fever has been pretty high. He's also feeling quite nauseous, so we're giving him anti-nausea medication in addition to the antibiotics. Even so, he's been quite charming. All the nurses on the floor love him."

Henry couldn't help but laugh at that, and he saw Gus nudge Juliet out of the corner of his eye. She smiled a little, blushing. The nurse opened the door, holding it open as they filed in. "I'll be back in a bit," she told them, closing the door.

Shawn was sitting up in the bed when they entered, but he looked impossibly pale, hooked up to various monitors and IVs. His face lit up when he saw his visitors, though, and that comforted Henry. Shawn lifted one hand in a half wave, keeping the other pressed tightly against his stomach.

"Shawn!" Juliet and Gus said simultaneously, quickly going to stand by Shawn's side.

"Hey guys," Shawn said weakly. A cannula ran from his nose, feeding him oxygen and making his voice sound nasally.

"How you doing, kid?" Henry asked, coming to stand by Juliet's side. He pressed his hand against Shawn's head, feeling the high fever that still burned there. It may have just been his imagination, but Shawn seemed to lean into his father's touch.

"I thought I would feel better when they took out my appendix," Shawn mumbled dejectedly. Juliet picked up his hand, running her thumb across it.

"Does your stomach still hurt?" she asked quietly. Shawn shook his head slightly in the negative.

"Not like before. Feel...sick though. I threw up again." Henry didn't know why that made him feel so worried. He noticed the kidney dish lying on the side table, realizing it must have been put there for a reason.

"You need this?" he asked, picking it up and holding it out to Shawn. Shawn reached out for it, putting it in his lap.

"I hope not," he said quietly, clinging tightly to it nevertheless.

"Did your doctor tell you anything?" Gus asked. "What antibiotics does he have you on?"

"You'd probably know better than me, man. Some weird drugs I can't pronounce. Have you called Jackie yet?"

"Of course I haven't called Jackie! We've been too worried about you, Shawn."

Shawn scoffed. "I'm fine, buddy." He punctuated that statement with a full-bodied coughing fit that left him gasping for breath.

"Yeah, real fine, kid," Henry said, rubbing his son's back as the fit died down.

"Do you want me to get a nurse?" Juliet asked.

Shawn shook his head vehemently. "No...no Jules I'm fine. Just stay here." Juliet looked at Henry for approval, sitting back down he he gave a reluctant nod of his head. "So how long 'm I gonna be in here?" Shawn asked quietly, stifling a cough.

"Until your fever's down and the doctors are sure the infection is gone," Henry answered sternly. "You're pretty sick, kid."

Shawn shrugged, knowing his dad was right. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had more than just a simple cold. It was scary how serious this illness had become. Juliet took his hand again and he relaxed at her touch. Shawn leaned back in the bed, his eyes drifting closed as the pull of sleep became too strong to ignore.

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><p>Shawn awoke gasping for air, torn from sleep by another coughing fit. By the time he'd calmed down enough to breathe, his father was standing beside him with a glass of water in his hand, coaxing him to drink. "Where..." Shawn sputtered, choking on the water. "Where's Gus...and Jules?"<p>

Henry took the glass back from Shawn, setting it on the bedside table. "Only one visitor allowed for an extended time in the ICU. The nurses sent them home a few hours ago."

"Why 'm I still in the ICU?" Shawn asked. Henry looked exhausted – mentally and physically – and Shawn assumed that his still being in intensive care had something to do with that.

"Your temperature's climbed a bit," Henry said evenly. "Your doctor is concerned that the infection isn't responding to the medications."

"Oh. Guess that's why I..." Shawn paused to take a wheezing breath, "still feel like crap," he finished quietly.

"Do you want me to get a nurse?"

Shawn shook his head slightly, though he was obviously feeling ill. "No, not yet."

Henry nodded, watching as his son shifted uncomfortably in the bed. "How bout your mom? You want to try giving her a call?" Henry wasn't expecting the moment of hesitation from Shawn. "What's wrong?"

"Can you..." Shawn trailed off, mumbling the next bit quickly, as if he was ashamed, "could you call her?"

"Of course, if that's what you want. I thought you wanted to be the one to call her." Shawn didn't answer, avoiding eye contact with his dad. Henry continued when it was obvious Shawn wasn't going to answer him. "Do you want her to come here?"

Shawn looked up slowly. "Not if...not if she's too busy."

"Shawn," Henry said firmly, making sure his son was looking him in the eye. "She could never be too busy for you." Shawn still seemed unsure, but he nodded at his father's question.

"Okay. Thanks Dad."

Henry nodded, leaning back slightly in the chair, watching Shawn closely. Shawn began fidgeting in the bed, frantically pushing off the blankets, and Henry jumped up to stop him. "Hey, hey, what are you doing?"

"Too...too hot. Da..ad." Henry looked at Shawn's temperature reading, shocked to see it up past 103.

"Shh, it's okay Shawn. It's just the fever." Henry reached over, pressing the red call button by the side of Shawn's bed. He kept a hand on his son's shoulder, trying in vain to comfort him, wondering how the hell things had gotten so bad.

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><p>Thanks for reading! A review would make my day :)<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Soooo. I'm back! And I'm really sorry for the wait. It was way harder for me to write this part, so I kept putting it off. Then I thought that maybe if I made it extra long, that'd make up for it? Maybe? I promise, the next update will be way quicker. Anyway, I hope this was worth the wait. Let me know what you guys think!

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><p>A knock at the door startled Henry from his light doze and he sat up quickly, nearly falling out of his chair. Maddie stood at the entrance to Shawn's room, looking worried and nervous, and everything you would expect a mother to look when she was told her son was in the hospital with a ruptured appendix. Henry stood up quickly, greeting his ex-wife with a kiss on the cheek.<p>

"I didn't expect you to get here so soon."

"I lucked out – got the last seat on the flight." Maddie went to Shawn's side, putting her hand on his forehead and brushing his hair back. "How's he doing?" she asked softly, concerned.

Henry came to stand beside Maddie. "His doctor is concerned with the infection. Shawn's fever spiked a few hours ago so they had to try more aggressive antibiotics which have been pretty hard on his system. He's been vomiting off and on since then and he's also developed a pretty bad cough which can't be too fun for him after the surgery. His doctor said we need to keep an eye on him, make sure he's breathing okay."

"Oh Shawn," Maddie murmured, sitting down in the chair that Henry had pulled up for her. She placed a hand on Shawn's forehead, thumbing his hair back. Henry sat down next to her, resting his elbows on his knees, unable to hold back an exhausted sigh. "How long has he been asleep?" Maddie asked, not moving her eyes away from her son's face.

Henry lifted his head, squinting at his watch. "Only about an hour. He keeps waking up. Poor kid can't even get any rest."

Maddie didn't say anything, keeping her hand on Shawn's forehead, and the two sat in silence for a few minutes. Henry could feel his eyes drifting shut and on more than one occasion he had to shake himself awake. "You should go home, Henry. Get some sleep – you look wiped." Henry looked at her, knowing she was right but not wanting to leave Shawn. Not until he knew he was better. "I'll call you the second anything changes," she insisted, reading his mind.

Henry hesitated but knew that Maddie wouldn't stop insisting until she got her way. Besides, she always seemed to know what was best when it came to him and Shawn. "Yeah, okay," he agreed, standing up and stretching out his arms. "If he wakes up, tell him I'll be back soon."

"Of course," Maddie smiled at Henry's uncharacteristic display of concern. Henry nodded, touching Shawn lightly on the arm.

"Feel better, kid," he mumbled before turning to leave.

Maddie watched Henry go, then turned back to Shawn, unsettled by her son's stillness. Shawn was never quiet and seeing him like this just felt so wrong. She listened to his raspy breathing, worrying at his still-rising fever. "Oh Shawn," she repeated, leaning back in her chair as she watched her son sleep.

It was another thirty minutes before Shawn started to stir, mumbling unintelligible words and shifting restlessly. Maddie had been watching him closely and the second he started to move, she had been quick to comfort him. "Shhh," she soothed, placing her hand on Shawn's forehead again.

Shawn blinked his eyes, looking up in confusion. "Mom?" he choked out, voice raspy.

"Hey Goose," his mom said warmly, smiling at the surprised look on her son's face.

"Didn't...think you'd come," he mumbled, his voice breaking from the dryness. Maddie got up and poured a glass of water, handing it to Shawn who took it gratefully.

She took it back once he'd taken a few sips. "Of course I came, Shawn. How are you feeling?"

Shawn struggled to sit up, using the bed rails for support. He leaned forward as his mom rearranged the pillows behind him.

"Been better," he answered once he was lying back against the pillows. Maddie pulled her chair closer, keeping a close eye on him as she sat down She didn't like his color and she could hear a slight wheeze whenever he took a breath. Shawn pressed a hand against his chest, wincing slightly.

"Your dad said they have you on some strong antibiotics. Do you still feel nauseous?"

"Mmmm. Better than before," he answered honestly, feeling queasy at the memory. He remembered feeling uncomfortably, inescapably hot. His dad had told him it had been the fever, and after that, all he could recall were snatches of conversation – the doctor telling his dad that the infection wasn't responding the way they'd hoped and that they would be increasing the medications.

Shawn had woken up after that to the worst feeling of vertigo he'd ever experienced, the world spinning rapidly around him. It was all he could do to lift his head up before he was losing everything in his stomach. His dad had been there, too, helping him every time the nausea resurfaced – every thirty minutes or so. The painful pulling of his stitches whenever he threw up or coughed only added to the misery.

"Where's dad?" Shawn asked, only then realizing that his father wasn't in the room, and he felt strangely disappointed by that fact.

"Home. Sleeping, hopefully. He was dead on his feet."

Shawn smiled slightly. "Yeah, I don't think he's slept since I got sick." He closed his eyes again as the room began to tilt around him.

"Can you stay awake a little longer, Shawn? I just want a nurse to check you out."

Shawn made a soft humming sound in assent and Maddie got up to search for a nurse. She came back less than a minute later with one in-tow.

"Hey Shawn," the nurse – Rachel – said cheerfully. Shawn remembered her somewhere in between the whole feeling like he was being cooked alive and then feeling like his stomach was trying to turn itself inside out. "And you must be Mrs. Spencer," she said, shaking Maddie's hand.

"Call me Maddie."

"Hey Rachel," Shawn said softly as she began to check his vitals.

"Well you look a little better at least, though your fever's still up there. The nausea finally backing down?"

Shawn gave a barely perceptible nod of the head. Truth was, he was beginning to feel queasy again and he just wanted to go back to sleep, to close his eyes and make the room stop spinning.

"I think he's feeling sick again," Shawn heard his mom telling Rachel, and he marveled at how well she could read him, even when she'd been gone for so long. "And his breathing sounds wheezy."

Shawn wanted to speak up, to tell them that they didn't need to talk about him because he was _right here_. But that would take too much effort and right now it was taking all of Shawn's will just to keep from throwing up. For the thousandth time. Ruptured appendixes and infected insides sucked out loud.

"Shawn?" that was his mom and she sounded worried. Like she'd repeated his name several times and gotten no response.

Shawn opened his eyes and looked over at her, still keeping his head pressed against the pillows and his mouth closed tightly. Maddie nodded towards Rachel, giving her an unspoken "go ahead." Apparently she had a question for Shawn too.

"Shawn, how does your chest feel?"

Shawn's brain took a few seconds to process the question. The nausea had taken the front seat for the last few hours, preventing him from really focusing on the uncomfortableness of the incision site or the heaviness in his chest. But now that she mentioned it... "Tight," he mumbled, bringing a hand up to rub at his chest. The wheeze was even more evident now and he was struggling a little to take a deep breath.

Shawn pulled in a few more shuddering breaths, beginning to panic at how difficult it was to get air. He broke into a coughing fit, clutching at his chest and panting for breath. He thought he heard his mom calling out his name and he definitely felt her hand on his arm, squeezing it as she tried to get him to calm down.

The bed was lowered and Rachel was fiddling with an oxygen mask, pressing it to his face and instructing him to take slower breaths. "Shawn," his mom said, her voice sounding calm, reassuring. But Shawn could hear a hint of shakiness underneath and he knew he was freaking her out. "Calm down, Sweetie. You _can_ breath. You just need to calm down."

Shawn held on to the sound of her voice, doing his best to follow her instructions. There were other people in the room now besides Rachel and that did nothing but make Shawn feel even more claustrophobic. He blocked out the other people, focusing instead on his mom's voice and her hand on his arm.

After a few desperate, panicked minutes though, the breaths began to come easier and Shawn greedily drank in the oxygen flowing out of the mask. "Good, that's very good, Shawn." Shawn recognized the voice of his doctor from earlier, but the edges of his vision were blurring and he squeezed his eyes shut tight. He heard the buzz of urgent voices around him and the cold hands of the doctor as he pressed against the incision site. Shawn let out a pained gasp, trying to curl on his side, away from the stabbing pain and the hands that were causing it, but someone was pressing down on his shoulders and he was too weak to fight them. He felt his breath speeding up again, knew that he was panicking, but the nausea and the pain were too overwhelming.

"He needs to calm down," the doctor said firmly, and Shawn would have laughed if he could catch his breath long enough to do so. _Ya think?_ It didn't take a doctor to see that he needed to calm down. But the whole feeling like he was being stabbed thing? _So _not helping. Shawn didn't have much time to dwell on that question, though, as the next minute he felt a tight pinch in his arm and almost instantly felt the heavy pull of sleep. Apparently drugging a person was one way to calm them down. Shawn was out within seconds.

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><p>Either the sedative hadn't been very strong or Shawn's body was determined not to let him get the rest he so desperately needed, because Shawn was awake within the hour. Maddie didn't miss a beat, noticing the second her son's eyes were open and immediately making sure he stayed calm, reminding him where he was and why. It took Shawn a second to remember and when he did, he looked sheepishly at his mom, recalling the panic attack that had led the doctor to sedate him. The heaviness in his chest was still there, but the fact that he was able to take deeper breaths – not to mention the added help of the oxygen mask strapped around his face – did wonders to keep him calm. Or, at least calmer.<p>

Maddie had poured another glass of water for Shawn and she was helping him sit up again, fussing with his pillows. Shawn let her – he wasn't a kid anymore, but he still missed the way his mom used to take care of him. And it'd been so long since he'd let anyone take care of him.

"How long was I asleep for?" Shawn asked, straining to see the clock. Not that he had any idea what time it had been the last time he'd been awake.

"Not long. I think the doctor just wanted to give you something to calm down, though if you ask me he should be giving you something to help you rest too. I'm going to see if I can go have a word with..."

"Mom, no," Shawn insisted, cutting her off before she made the decision to charge out of the room in search of a doctor. She could get pretty worked up when she was angry or annoyed – especially if it involved someone she loved. "Don't wanna...sleep yet," Shawn coughed out, wheezing a little on the last word. "I missed you," he added quietly.

Maddie's expression softened and she visibly calmed down, no longer appearing as if she was ready to flee. She pressed her hand to the side of Shawn's face. "I missed you too, Goose. Every day."

Shawn smiled, shutting his eyes briefly and leaning into his mother's touch.

"So," Maddie began after a few minutes, breaking the silence. "Is Jules the same Juliet that works at the department?" Shawn opened his eyes, confused. "You talk in your sleep sometimes," she filled in. "Used to do it all the time when you were sick." Shawn flushed in embarrassment, wondering what else he had said while he'd been unconscious. Maddie stayed silent, waiting for an answer to her first question.

"Jules is Juliet O'Hara. Detective Juliet O'Hara."

"And?" Maddie prodded when it was obvious that's all Shawn was going to give her.

"And..." Shawn trailed off. "She's my girlfriend," he said quickly, quietly, though Maddie could see the way is lips upturned slightly, as if even the thought of her made him smile.

Maddie smiled, patting Shawn's arm. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Shawn shot her a look that told her it had been exactly that. "Oh come on, Shawn. You know I would have found out eventually. I always thought you liked her that time I came to the station."

"I didn't even introduce you to her!"

Maddie smiled. "You seemed nervous around her. Just like you were when Casey Hammel came to your birthday party in fifth grade. You were _so_ cute the way you..."

"Mommm," Shawn whined, putting a hand over his face. He peered through his fingers after a minute, checking to see if his mom was going to stop with the teasing. "I'm sick, remember? You're supposed to be nice to me."

Maddie smiled. "Of course." Shawn nodded, satisfied at that, until his mom continued. "But Juliet – Jules," she corrected, "called the hospital earlier to see if she could stop by before she headed to the station," she paused, waiting for Shawn's reaction.

Even though the prospect of his mom meeting his girlfriend terrified him, Shawn still smiled at the thought of Juliet coming to visit. "So is she coming?" he asked when it was obvious Maddie wasn't going to provide the answer without his prompting.

"Yes, Shawn. Juliet should be here in a little bit. She sounded really worried about you."

Shawn nodded. "Yeah, she was with me at the station when I collapsed. And the night before at Dad's house." Realizing Maddie didn't know about that, Shawn continued. "Gus drove me to Dad's house Sunday morning after we checked out a crime scene. Gus had a date and refused to leave me alone when I was sick. And then Juliet came over Sunday night to take care of me."

"What a woman," Maddie remarked, her voice holding a hint of amusement at Shawn's obvious infatuation.

"Yeah she's pretty great," Shawn smiled. "Pretty much perfect."

The sound of someone knocking on the door had them both startled, as neither had expected Juliet to arrive so soon. Rachel opened the door, leading in Juliet whose expression and appearance revealed how worried she was. "Shawn," she breathed out, surprised that he was sitting up, looking almost healthy save for the oxygen mask and the milk-white pallor of his skin. She hurried to Shawn's side to give him a kiss on the cheek, only then seeming to realize Maddie sitting at his side.

"Mrs. Spencer!" Juliet exclaimed, stumbling over her words in embarrassed nervousness. Maddie smiled, standing up and taking Juliet's hand warmly.

"Juliet," she said, pulling her into a hug. Juliet stood rigid, unsure for a moment before leaning in and hugging her back, feeling her eyes tear up at the sheer roller coaster of emotions that she'd experienced over the last 24 hours. "You can call me Maddie," she told Juliet after they pulled apart.

"Maddie," Juliet said, nodding. "We met before – at the station. You did a psych evaluation for my partner."

"Detective Lassiter. He was an interesting case study, to say the least. I've heard a lot of good things about you, though," Maddie added, glancing over at Shawn and seeing him sink back into the bed, embarrassed. Juliet smiled widely, obviously liking that. "We'll have plenty time to talk later, though. I know you need to be heading back to the station soon and I'm in desperate need of a coffee break. I'm sure you and Shawn could use some time alone," she finished, turning back to her son. "Play nice," she said, patting his leg as she left.

Juliet waited three seconds before returning to Shawn's side, kissing him long and hard, only pulling away when she heard the soft sound of pain that Shawn obviously tried to hide.

"Sorry, sorry," she said hurriedly, pulling back and studying her boyfriend. He still looked sick and Juliet could tell he was exhausted, fighting to keep his eyes open. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, no it's fine Jules. You didn't hurt me," he reassured her. She pulled the chair closer, taking a seat in it but not moving her hand from his arm.

"You look like crap," she said smiling, though her eyes betrayed her concern.

"Feel like crap too," he admitted, coughing hard into his fist, wincing as it pulled at his stitches. He reached for the glass of water by his bedside, trying to focus his eyes when his hands grasped only air on the first try. _Why did it seem like there were three glasses? _Juliet noticed his predicament, reaching out and directing his hand toward the glass, not letting go until he had it firmly in his grasp.

"You dizzy?" she asked after he set the glass back down.

Shawn nodded. "Think it's...the infection," he wheezed. "Or the damn medicine they have me on. Makes me feel...even sicker. Ugh."

Juliet squeezed his arm again then moved her hand to his forehead. "You're really hot," she said worriedly.

"Thanks Jules, you too," he slurred.

Jules swatted his arm in mock annoyance. "What did the doctor say?"

"You know, the usual. Exploded appendix, infection, and now something about pneumonia."

"Shawn!" Juliet sounded horrified at the list.

"Okay, okay, maybe not the last part. At least I hope not...though it does feel like it..."

"I'm getting the doctor."

Shawn chuckled. "You're just like my mom. No scratch that, that's too weird. The nurse will be checking on me soon, anyway. She'll get the doctor if there's something wrong." Juliet seemed unconvinced, still poised to leave. "Jules," Shawn said calmly, trying to ease her concerns. "Yes, I'm sick – I'm in the hospital for a reason. But I'm getting better, I promise. And if you go get the doctor then they may kick you out of here and I know you can't stay long and..."

"Okay Shawn! I get the point," Juliet said laughing. "I'll stay."

"Good," Shawn sighed, exhausted from the long-winded argument. He took a raspy breath before asking his next question. "Did you arrest the gardener?"

Juliet nodded. "Not me, personally. Carlton sent me home when I tried to go back to the station after I left here. But I called the station earlier and talked to Buzz. Apparently he was in the interrogation room with Carlton and the gardener – Jorge Montero."

"McNab! What'd he say?"

"You know Buzz, he gets excited whenever Carlton lets him in on investigations. But it did sound like Carlton was even more terrifying than usual. Jorge confessed in ten minutes when he was faced with the evidence against him. They found the murder weapon still hanging in the garden shed and his prints were all over it."

"Way to go Lassie!"

"You too, Shawn. After all, you're the one that pegged the gardener."

Shawn smiled slightly, wondering what she would think if she knew how out-of-left field that guess had been. He was just lucky it panned out. "Just doing my job. Have you talked to Gus since yesterday?"

"He drove me home and I stopped by his apartment on my way over here. He's going to come by with your dad a little later."

"Uh oh. My dad's coming back?"

"Be nice Shawn."

Shawn smiled innocently. "Just kidding. Can you stay and protect me?"

"Sorry, Babe," Juliet said looking at her watch. "I actually have to leave now." Shawn gave her his best puppy dog expression. "Don't give me that look. I just need to do some paperwork, then I'll come back. You better get better. You promised," she added, leaning in for a kiss.

"Hurry back."

Juliet nodded. "I will. Get some rest."

Shawn watched Juliet, closing his eyes tightly once she'd left. He'd done his best to disguise it, but he was starting to feel worse. He knew his fever was rising – could feel the way the heat made his skin feel itchy and tight. And the heaviness in his chest was settling in. He just wanted to sleep for hours and wake up completely healed, no matter how ridiculous that sounded. Shawn wanted to wait for his mom to come back but he didn't want to fight the pull of sleep either. Knowing he'd be awakened when the nurse came to check on him anyway, Shawn closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

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><p>What'd you think? Should I hurt Shawn just a little more? Thanks for reading, have a wonderful day.<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I really should stop making promises, because I really, really suck at keeping them. So today I wrote 9 pages of this story because I felt bad about not updating…and now it's done! YAY! Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, they've really motivated me to keep working at this story. Thanks specifically to "AwesomeISmyGame," who gave me the ideas for how to hurt Shawn in this chapter. (Oh yes, there's more whump). Anyways, I hope you enjoy this last chapter. I'm not thrilled with the ending, but I totally couldn't figure out how to write it, so that will have to do. Thanks again! I'd love to know what you think**

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><p>"Surgery <em>again<em>? Wasn't once enough?" this time Henry's voice was the first one Shawn heard when he woke up.

"Shhh, keep it down Henry. The doctor said that appendicitis cases often have many complications. The infection isn't healing as well as they'd hoped, so they need to open up the site again and flush it out, maybe remove some of the infected tissue."

A quiet curse from his father, then Gus's voice, low and scared. "Will he be okay?"

"He'll be fine, Sweetie," his mom responded in a much nicer tone than she had used with Henry. "The doctor said his breathing has been improving, so at least something is getting better. And hopefully they can get all the infected tissue out this time."

"Did Juliet stop by before?" Gus asked Maddie, anxious to know how their first meeting had gone.

Maddie nodded. "What a sweet girl. And Shawn is just so taken with her." Shawn opened his eyes quickly and groaned to get everyone's attention, not wanting his mom to continue with that thought. "Shawn!" just as before, his mom was by his side in an instant. Henry came over almost as quickly.

"What's going on?" Shawn mumbled quietly, hoping he hadn't heard correctly when his mom had said something about more surgery. Maddie had the back of her hand on his forehead, testing his temperature herself, not trusting the monitors.

Henry squeezed Shawn's shoulder smiling at his son. "Hey kid. Don't you think you've had enough attention already? Time to get better," he said it jokingly, but his tone was tinged with worry.

"More surgery?" Shawn asked worriedly, hating that he already knew the answer. His mom moved her hand from his forehead, brushing back his hair.

"Yeah, sweetie, the doctor wants to go in and check out the incision site."

"Can't he do that without cutting me back open?"

Maddie smiled at Shawn's whining. "The infection is _inside_, Shawn. Hopefully the doctors can get out all of the infection and then you'll start to feel much better."

Shawn's shoulders slumped and he pouted, "Don't wanna be cut open again." He looked over at his best friend standing in the corner. Gus was never good at hiding his emotions, and Shawn could tell he was scared. "Gus, buddy! Come here!"

Gus came and stood by the foot of Shawn's bed. "Hey, man. Sorry to hear you're not feeling that much better."

Shawn shrugged, determined to try and cheer Gus up. "Yeah, but I still feel better than I did before. Jules said you talked to Jackie. What'd she say?"

Gus felt uncomfortable talking about his date around Mr. and Mrs. Spencer, but he would do anything to cheer Shawn up and take his mind off the surgery. "She wants to go on another date, Shawnie boy. And she actually called _me_!"

"Wow, Gus! That might be a first – a girl actually chasing you."

"Definitely a first. Well, besides Mira. But now I have to pretend like I'm actually a concerned friend," he joked, shaking Shawn's leg and smiling, amazed that Shawn could make him feel better when Shawn was the one lying in a hospital bed feeling like hell.

"I don't think that will be so hard for you," Shawn mumbled, yawning. "So when are they cutting me open again?" he asked no one in particular.

"The doctor wanted to speak with you first," Maddie supplied.

"I'll go get him," Gus offered, heading off in search of the doctor.

Shawn let out an exhausted sigh once Gus had left. "How are you really feeling, Shawn?" Henry asked in a no-nonsense tone. "You don't have to pretend with us."

"Awful," Shawn admitted. "Am I really going to be okay?" he knew he sounded like a scared kid, but at the moment that was exactly how he felt.

Henry squeezed his shoulder again, trying to reassure him. "The surgery isn't that invasive, so there's less of a risk there. It's just a matter of getting rid of the infected tissue and giving your body more of a chance to fight the infection."

"The doctor was very optimistic that this would work," Maddie added reassuringly, though she could feel how high his fever was and it was hard to sound so sure of herself.

Shawn nodded again, feeling the same tight, hot, itchiness that had bothered him before. He reached up to move his mom's hand from his forehead, hoping that she knew it wasn't because of her, but instead because it was making him feel even more claustrophobic.

"Shawn?" Henry was trying to get Shawn's attention, obviously recognizing the reaction Shawn had had before when his fever had gotten too high. "What's his temperature?" he asked Maddie, who was closer to the monitors.

Maddie turned back to check the reading, gasping at how high it was. "One hundred anc five," she all but whispered, looking at Henry worriedly. Shawn's teeth were chattering loudly and he was beginning to hyperventilate again.

Henry kept his hand on Shawn's arm and tried to keep him calm, but it was useless. It was a relief knowing that Gus was on his way back with the doctor, because at this point Henry was really starting to panic and he could tell that Maddie was too.

"Shawn, can you hear me?" Maddie asked, trying to get Shawn to focus.

"Mom? So hot." Shawn whimpered, taking one last gasping breath before going limp.

"Shawn!" Henry barked out, checking to make sure his son was still breathing. "He's just unconscious," he told Maddie, relieved when he saw Shawn's chest rise. The relief was short lived, though, as Shawn's body suddenly started jerking and spasming.

Gus returned to the room right in the midst of the chaos, and once the doctor saw what was going on, he immediately called for additional help. Several nurses and techs hurried in and helped hold Shawn down while the fever ran its course, making sure he didn't injure himself further. The spasms eventually died down, but Shawn didn't regain consciousness.

"What's wrong with him?" Maddie asked anxiously.

The doctor was checking over Shawn's vitals and ordering one of the nurses to get ice packs, but turned back towards Maddie. "It was most likely a febrile seizure, but I can't rule out the possibility that the infection is affecting his brain and central nervous system. We're going to try and cool him down now and then we'll run some tests. I'm afraid you'll have to return to the waiting room until we're finished, though," he told the three of them apologetically. "Don't worry, we're going to take good care of him."

Henry nodded, and after a moment put his hand on Maddie's shoulder. "Come on, Hon." They followed Gus out of the room, taking one last look back at Shawn before heading to the waiting rom.

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><p>Juliet had joined Shawn's parents and best friend less than an hour later, disheartened at their news but not all that surprised that Shawn's condition had worsened. She <em>knew<em> he had been feeling sicker; she should have forced him to admit it.

Luckily, they didn't have to wait all that long for the doctor to return with news. "Mr. and Mrs. Spencer," he greeted them with a smile. "I've got mostly good news." He took a seat in front of the group, clasping his hands in front of him. "I had been leaning towards a neurological problem when Shawn had his seizure, mainly because febrile seizures are more common in children and infants and, when one happens in an adult, it's usually indicative of some more serious underlying condition. But all of Shawn's tests came back normal. We've been using ice packs to cool him down, and his fever has dropped to 101 degrees. Still high, but not nearly as serious as it was before."

"What about the infection?" Henry asked.

The doctor nodded. "That's the not-so-good news. It hasn't worsened, but it hasn't improved so significantly that no further intervention is needed. We're going to go ahead and reopen the incision site and clear out some of the infected tissue. Also, in ruptured appendicitis cases an abscess can sometimes form. Basically, this is a pus-filled mass that the body forms in order to localize the infection and prevent its spreading. If this is the case, we'll need to put a drain in the site and monitor it for up to two weeks, but we'll cross that bridge when and if we get there."

The doctor noticed the worried looks on their faces and quickly continued. "I know it sounds like a lot, but Shawn's condition is actually improving. His body's fighting hard, he just needs a little more medical help to heal all the way. Do you have any questions?"

"When are you going to take him into surgery?" Henry spoke up again.

"As soon as possible. Like I said, we've been able to somewhat stabilize his body temperature, so now would probably be the best time."

"If everything goes well and no drain is needed, how long will his recovery be?" Maddie asked.

"That depends on Shawn. He's young and fit, though, and barring any further complications, I don't believe his recovery will be too lengthy. But we're getting ahead of ourselves; let's just see how the surgery goes and we'll move forward from there. I promise, I'll send someone out here to update you shortly."

"Thank you, Doctor," Henry said sincerely, and the doctor nodded before leaving the waiting room and returning to the ER.

* * *

><p>Carlton Lassiter would never admit it (at least not when sober), but he was continually impressed by Shawn Spencer's ability to determine the culprit and method of a crime long before anyone else could even come close. Sure, Spencer would often pinpoint the wrong person before determining the correct one, but that seemed like a relatively minor detail when examining the number of cases he'd successfully closed since joining the SBPD and becoming an ever-present thorn in the head detective's side.<p>

Lassiter had turned back two times on his way to the hospital. They had booked Jorge Montero – the rogue gardener – in record time, and the chief had ordered him to go home and get some rest. But he couldn't seem to get his mind off the department psychic, and he had unconsciously found himself driving towards the hospital. Lassiter sighed loudly; even when he wasn't there, Shawn could be a thorn in his side.

After making two U-turns and nearly causing three separate accidents, Lassiter decided to just go to the hospital. If anyone asked, he'd say he was just coming to update his partner on the case and not to check on the condition of his pseudo-colleague.

Juliet spotted him first, and she got up to greet him, looking so broken and scared. He didn't know how to offer comfort, so he put his arms out, expecting one of their awkward hugs. Instead she folded into him, her body shaking with silent sobs. It reminded him so much of that night when he and Guster had saved her from Yin, and he put his arms around her and let her cry. And he was suddenly glad he had decided to come, if only to offer his partner whatever measure of comfort he could.

"Is Shawn okay?" he asked when she finally pulled away.

Juliet wiped her tears away, shaking her head slightly. "He's in surgery again. There were complications, and he had a seizure before."

_Shit_, Lassiter thought. Of course Spencer would have complications. "He'll be okay," he heard himself saying. Juliet nodded but didn't say anything, leading him over to where Gus, Henry, and Maddie sat waiting. He nodded to them, taking a seat next to Juliet, hating the worry that he felt. Once Spencer was better, he was so going to kick his ass for this.

Shawn came awake slowly, blinking through the drug-induced haze that he was all-too-familiar with now. He felt a tight pull on the right side of his stomach and immediately remembered not to move. Rachel, the nurse who had taken care of him earlier, was checking his vitals when he opened his eyes.

"Hey," she said softly, smiling down at Shawn. "How are you feeling, Shawn?"

Shawn groaned slightly, moving his hand towards the pain.

"You don't wanna do that," she said, gently taking his hand and moving it away from the wound. "It's kinda gross," she admitted, as if letting him in on a secret. Shawn chuckled, grateful for the levity. "Seriously, though. Do you feel a little better?"

Shawn took a moment to take stock of himself so he could answer her question as accurately as possible. The fever had definitely gone down; he could tell because he no longer felt like he was trapped in a sauna. His chest seemed less tight, and he could breathe much more easily. His stomach still hurt, but then it _had_ been cut open twice. It'd probably be weird if it didn't hurt at all. "Yeah," he told her, smiling. "Feel much better."

Rachel smiled widely. "That's great! The surgery went really well, and the doctors think they got all the infected tissue out."

"So no abscess?" Shawn asked, hopeful. That detail had really grossed him out, as had the prospect of having a drain in his abdomen for two weeks.

"Nope. No abscess, no drain. Doc thinks another week or so and you can go home." Shawn tried to sit up but immediately fell back with a groan. "Whoa, slow down there, speedy. You're still going to have to take it slow to let your body heal."

"Got it," Shawn gasped out. "No sudden movements."

"That's a start. Do you need anything right now?"

"I'm good."

"Okay, I'm going to go let your family know that you're awake. They should be able to come in and visit soon. Glad you're feeling better."

Shawn relaxed back against the pillows, breathing deeply. He was exhausted and in pain, but even that felt so much better than before. Shawn closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep.

**2 ½ weeks later**

"Spencer, stop bothering Detective O'Hara. I'm sure she has better things to do than listen to you whine about how you're bored."

Juliet smiled at her partner, then looked back at Shawn who was sitting on her desk, looking smug. "Do you have better things to do than listen to me whine, Jules?" he asked her sweetly.

"Shawn, I would like nothing _more_ than to listen to you whine, but the chief has been getting on our cases for the backload of work. Besides, if I don't get it done, I won't be able to come to your house for dinner later."

Shawn got serious at that. "My mom would be devastated. You finish up your work, Jules, I'll be fine by myself for awhile." He hopped of her desk, curling in a little as the landing jolted his still-tender abdomen.

"Shawn be careful!" Juliet scolded, standing up and putting her hand on his back.

"I'm okay!" he assured her, standing up. "See! All better." Juliet gave him a skeptical look, touching his stomach gently. Shawn took her chin in his hand, moving it upwards so she was looking at his face. "I'm good, Jules," he smiled and pulled her in for a long kiss.

"Spencer!" Lassiter shouted again. "Scram!"

Juliet pushed his shoulder. "You better get out of here before he arrests you."

"Good idea," Shawn agreed, but he stopped at Lassiter's desk as he was leaving.

"What do you want, Spencer?"

"My mom wanted to make sure you were coming tonight." Lassiter hesitated for a moment. "You don't want to disappoint my mom, do you?

"Well, I…I'll probably be at the office late. I have a lot of work to do."

"Chief Vick said you could take the night off."

"You talked to the chief?"

Shawn nodded. "She's coming too. See you at 7!" Shawn hurried out, ignoring whatever Lassie muttered after him.

* * *

><p>Gus was waiting at the psych office when Shawn pulled up on his bike. "Shawn, what the hell? You told me you were getting a ride with Juliet. You know you shouldn't be riding that thing."<p>

"She had work to do. I didn't ride it far." Gus just glared at him. "Fine, I won't drive it for awhile."

"If you ask me, you should just get rid of it."

"Yeah, maybe someday. Do you have the info for our next case?" Gus held up a sheet of papers and handed them to Shawn. "And what exactly are doing for…Earl Hebert?" Shawn asked, reading the name from the papers.

"It's actually his sons, Donald and Craig. Their dad apparently has late-stage Alzheimer's, and according to them, they just found out that he had a fortune in old pirate gold buried away somewhere. Only problem is, they don't know where, and he's not exactly able to help them."

Shawn grinned widely. "Dude, this is just like The Goonies."

"Sounds like a wild goose chase to me."

"That's exactly what they thought about the Goonies. We're so taking this."

"Figured you'd say that. They're offering a large reward, so we might as well give it a shot."

"Sweet. We gotta find ourselves a Sloth!"

"The animal?"

"Nah, that big creepy dude from the movie."

"Of course." Gus grinned. "Good to have you back, man."

Shawn smiled back, holding out his fist for Gus to bump. "It's good to be back."

* * *

><p><em>Done! I hope you enjoyed it :) Please review, you'll make my day!<em>


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